


Burn Bright

by msbiscuits



Series: The Stars in Spring [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Courting Rituals, F/M, Making Out, Marriage Proposal, Public Nudity, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23763526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msbiscuits/pseuds/msbiscuits
Summary: Thirty decaphoebs of clandestine meetings all came down to one night.
Relationships: Allura/Lotor (Voltron)
Series: The Stars in Spring [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711885
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Burn Bright

Thirty doboshes.

 _Thirty doboshes_ she was late. And to her own damn engagement ball, no less. Somehow she managed to evade every member of the royal guard strewn about the castle. The best defenders and trackers Altea could offer, and Allura slipped under their noses with seemingly no effort at all. Perhaps a reevaluation was long overdue like Melenor suggested. To have a position of prestige filled with incompetence simply wouldn’t do. What would the neighboring realms think?

Coran returned to him just then, one hand tucked stiffly to the small of his back while the other wiped off the sweat beading on his brow. Embarrassment clouded his features, his gaze both drawn and avoidant. His expression said it all. Zero words exchanged, and every question of his was answered.

“Let me guess,” he muttered, sarcasm practically dripping off every word. “No leads?”

“I’ve— I’ve checked everywhere, your majesty. I even corroborated with the two guards stationed outside her quarters.” Perspiration trickled down his temple. “She never left her room! And there’s not been a peep about her whereabouts since!”

Alfor scrubbed a palm down his face. What a headache. If it weren’t for all the guests already in attendance, he’d have called off the ball by now. At least Melenor was entertaining them well enough with her drunken antics. A small blessing, certainly.

“So she climbed out her window. Down her balcony or— or something,” he deduced with a shake of his head. “She must be hiding out in a closed off a—”

“ _—Alfor!_ ”

Footsteps thundered down the grand staircase, belonging to none other than the Emperor of Daibazaal himself. Pupils thinned and clothes disheveled, Zarkon looked just about as frazzled as he and Coran did.

“Have you seen my son!?”

Wonderful. Another missing royal to add to his growing list of problems. The only thing that could make the evening worse was if Melenor started showering their guests with affection, which — if he was being honest — didn’t seem too far off from happening, considering the way she drunkenly clung to the men and women gathered around her.

Alfor wilted with a heavy exhale, all sense of decorum but a forethought in his mind now. Who could think about frivolous things like manners and niceties when they were on the brink of chaos. “I can’t keep track of my own daughter, Zarkon. What makes you think I’ve been—”

_Wait a tick._

Lotor and Allura.

Both of them.

Missing.

_Simultaneously._

Alfor stood to full height, eyes narrowing in irate suspicion. It was no mere coincidence that both made themselves scarce when Allura’s presence was required the most. Their motives eluded him, but there was no doubt in his mind they were off causing castle-wide hysteria together.

“Come, Zarkon. Let’s round up our children like quiznacking ovine herders.” Endless hallways and stairwells to search. Not to mention the grounds surrounding the castle. Already he could feel exhaustion settling deep in his bones. He was getting too old for this chase.

Zarkon‘s expression was one of hope. “So you know where they are?”

“No, but we shall look around regardless.”

* * *

_Eighteenth varga._

_A proud creature stands vigil,_

_watching as nature reclaims_

_a remnant of a bygone era._

_Meet me there._

_\- Lu_

Lotor reread her message for perhaps the hundredth time, chuckling again at the sheer ridiculousness of her discretion. Always with the theatrics, that one, but the ruins he stood in was undoubtedly the right place: the crumbled remains of an old watchtower by the river. Perfectly tucked away in the northeastern corner of the castle grounds, right before the land gave way to sprawling woodlands. It was cozy and away from prying eyes. A longtime favorite spot of theirs.

He ran a gloved palm over the mane of a toppled lion statue, its crystalline eyes briefly glowing amber under his touch. Magic still coursed through the stone to this day, dormant but responding to his in kind. Seeing that spark of life never failed to lift up his spirits. A gentle reminder that he was equally as Altean as Allura and the rest of their people.

Speaking of…

He felt excitement blossom her spirit before her hands veiled over his eyes, warm and petal soft like the rest of her. Her chest pressed low to his back eagerly. Hot breath brushed his ear. Already desire stirred low in his belly. “Guess who.”

A grin stretched across his face before he could help it. “Ah, yes. _Whoever could it be?_ ”

Melodious laughter echoed against the stones, ringing possessively in his ears. Over thirty decaphoebs together and still he never grew tired of it. Even when they reached five hundred and beyond, he didn’t think he ever would. If she would still have him, that is.

Lotor carefully extracted her hands, placing reverent kisses along her wrists, knuckles, anywhere her lovely skin was exposed. She let out a pleased hum, allowing him to maneuver her into the circle of his strong arms. The moonlight sent her eyes alight the moment her gaze set upon him, her smile rivaling that of a thousand stars. His heart lodged in his throat.

“You actually came,” she said, almost in awe.

“You doubted I would?”

“No! No.” She paused, lip thoughtfully pinched between her teeth. “Only… I haven’t heard a word from you in phoebs. I figured you might be upset by this whole mess my father organized. That, or you finally froze over on that military outpost like you said you would.” A blush followed a colorful giggle, spreading across her cheeks exquisitely. “Imagine my surprise seeing the Daibazaal envoy arrive with you in tow.”

Lotor felt his own face heat up. “Ah… w-well…” He couldn’t outright tell her he spent those phoebs crafting his own offering for the event. In fact, he had started it long before the announcement, but only after he heard the news did he rush to complete it. Endless nights nearly freezing his fingers off for a traditional engagement necklace, something he hoped she’d be proud enough to wear publicly. Now it sat comfortably in the chest compartment over his heart. Heavily. _Profoundly._ As if the woman in front of him hadn’t stolen it all those decaphoebs ago.

“Something on your mind?” Allura asked sweetly. One of her palms reached to cup his cheek. A thumb stroked fondly along his cheekbone.

What _wasn’t_ on his mind? His impending proposal, the necklace, the entire ball, the warm body pressed impossibly close to his. He quickly found them all revolving around one person.

“ _You._ ”

The entirety of her brightened with the word, her markings already pulsing a muted icy blue underneath the scant moonlight. _Stars_ , how could he ever compare her to the galaxies; she outshone them all. “You’ve been on my mind a lot lately, too,” she spoke softly, gaze coy as she closed what little distance remained between them. Lotor swallowed thickly, imagining the innumerable possibilities he’d been subjected to amidst her fantasies. The blush warming her from the shoulders up spoke of everything and nothing. But she wasn’t the only one in that regard, and his hadn’t been perfectly chaste either. Time and distance (and a nosy Ezor inserting herself during their rare moments of privacy) proved more and more strenuous the longer they spent apart. But standing opposite her now, allowing her to ensnare him into the captivating heat of her kiss, those drawbacks seemed insignificant now — and in hindsight, that should have been obvious. Nearly two decaphoebs apart and they picked up where they left off like nothing had changed. 

But things _had_ changed, and shouldn’t they talk about the fact that her father was forcing her to choose someone to marry? Ancients, they weren’t even fifty yet!

A broken moan tore past her throat at their burgeoning kiss, an earnest hand guiding his just above the curve of her bottom. The flesh there yielded under his touch.

“I have something for you,” she said between kisses, “but you have to find it first.”

“For me?”

A bright peal of laughter escaped her, brought about by the bewilderment written plainly across his face. “Yes you, you silly man. Let me spoil you as much as you’ve spoiled me,” she teased. He never had a chance to say anything more. One last brush of their lips and she bared her back to him, twisting thick silver-white curls out of the way to better accommodate him. Lotor swallowed past the lump in his throat, the expanse of luminous skin revealed glowing like an invitation in the dim light. Shoulder to shoulder, down to the middle of her spine. Supple to the touch and practically begging for attention. His mouth watered.

Allura watched him expectantly. “Well?”

He chuckled darkly, gathering her back into the cradle of his arms. There wasn’t an inch of her evading his touch. “So eager.” His thumb edged along the gold trim of her gown. The gentle graze of claw to delicate skin invoked a tremble. “And yet you haven’t allowed me the opportunity to tell you how much I’ve missed you.” His lips found that sensitive spot just below her ear, teasing her there with tongue and teeth. It never failed to drive her wild, and in that moment, her reaction didn’t disappoint. Her head fell back salaciously against his shoulder with her joyful cry, baring more of her beautiful neck in a willful askance.

What he wouldn’t give for more time, to absolutely devastate her in the most pleasurable of ways. She merited more than a quick roll in the juniberries in the middle of a growing pile of rubble. Especially on an evening like this. Perhaps long after the world went to sleep, he’d scale the castle walls to her balcony and make an appearance in her bedchambers. All to shower her in the praise she so rightly deserved.

“ _Show me._ ”

Lotor discovered the hidden clasps of her bodice, unfastening them one by one at a near excruciating rate until he could fit a hand between fabric and skin. He nuzzled her cheek as he reveled in her warmth. The soft swell of her breast fit perfectly in his palm, and the sharp gasp released upon his delightful squeeze left him aching for more of those sweet sounds. “Is this not it? What would you call what I’m doing, then?”

Allura whimpered, letting the bodice pool around her waist as her fingers curled around his vambrace while the others seized the muscles of his thigh. Her grip was almost painful. She never did seem to grasp the full extent of her strength, but he found himself enjoying it regardless. “Insufferable,” she breathed. “You’re supposed to be searching me, not teasing me.”

He smirked, teasing, “Ah, so there really is something? I figured it was just an excuse to undress you.” She huffed though her smile, body betraying her desires as her nipples strained under his undivided attention.

“Who said it can’t be both?”

“You’re already halfway indecent,” he observed. “Where could it possibly be hiding?”

Allura turned again, her movements sensual as she reached up to unfasten the cape strapped to his cuirass. The inky fabric fell noiselessly to the grass, his gaze entranced by her exquisite curves. “Perhaps you’ll just have to look harder.”

Piece by piece they stripped him of his armor, sneaking kisses here and there until her voluminous gown joined his cape in a wrinkled heap on the floor. Lotor’s heart nearly seized on sight as she settled atop the bed of juniberries, clad only in the purest white panties and stockings. Both garments were held together by silky, blush pink ribbons, intricately woven into the finest gossamer. All for him. _Only_ for him. Truly a gift eagerly waiting to be unwrapped.

And speaking of gifts…

Allura giggled as he stretched over her, strands of hair and cool lips tickling the flat of her stomach. “I still haven’t discovered this gift. I’m starting to think you’re, to put it quite bluntly, fucking with me.”

Thin fingers carded through his hair, polished nails grazing deliciously against his scalp as she neatly pushed the strands out of his face. A smug smile stretched across her lips, dimpling a cheek. “Well, that’s not the kind of fucking I had in mind tonight.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” he deadpanned.

An embarrassing yelp escaped him at the punishing twist of his ear. It was quick and hardly painful, but he pouted up at her anyway, even dramatically rubbing the tip of his ear for full effect. “You’re a vicious woman, you know that?”

She let out an undignified snort. “And you call _me_ dramatic.”

It wasn’t until he pressed closer did their laughter turn into moans, the only noises resonating through the quiet of the night. He groaned into the bend of her neck, breathing harshly as their hips met almost desperately. Her hands traveled down the length of his spine, clutching his hips and then to the hard flesh of his buttocks. How he missed this — this _intimacy_ ; the utter bliss crossing her features, her heart burning bright against the darkness, a new light born of their creation as they surrendered themselves to their utmost pleasures.

So distracted was he that he nearly missed what she’d been going on about for the last several doboshes. The hard press of metal suddenly met his palm and caught him off guard. He maneuvered her shapely leg up and to the side with caution, if only for a better look. And there, flushed against the back of her thigh, tucked snugly inside her stocking, was his gift.

But no, it was so much _more_ than that, and Lotor recognized it immediately.

A blade.

A _proving_ blade, to be exact.

Lightweight yet strong — _powerful_ , he’d daresay — and no longer than the length of Allura’s thigh. The alchemy imbued in the metal ignited at his touch, illuminating their surroundings a vibrant pink. He hadn’t seen one since before his Uncle Dovrik and Aunt Zela married over forty decaphoebs ago, when they both presented their own meticulously crafted proving blade to each other. Galra tradition commanded a search for a great beast to slay with that very weapon, to prove themselves worthy of a union between their families.

His heart hammered against his ribcage, restless but enthusiastic above all. A room filled to the brim with nobles awaited her back at the castle, many of whom could offer her a more fruitful alliance than he… and still she chose _him_. The necklace he fashioned for her seemed insufficient now compared to this.

“Do you like it?” Hope colored her words. In the face of his silence, she was left uncertain.

“Allura,” he breathed reverently. “I _love_ it. Truly.”

On the hilt read an inscription, written almost clumsily in his native tongue.

_The fates destined her potential lost to time_

_But the king saw the ichor residing in her_

_And demanded a kingdom in her name_

“Is this—?”

“—an excerpt of the ancient Galran myth of the Unseen King and his wife, the Deathbringer? Yes!” She finished his thought in a rush, bouncing excitedly in place opposite him. “It’s my favorite of all the romances. Although there aren’t many of that variety to begin with.”

No surprises there. His people tended to favor tall tales that easily slaked their bloodlust. Despite their monikers, this particular legend was heavy on the romance, which was just as unconventional then as it was now. “And you wrote this? I thought… I thought you couldn’t understand…”

“I did.” Her cheeks darkened with the admission. “But I learned. For you.”

There were no words to properly express how profoundly she moved him. All these efforts she’d gone through to show the depths of her devotion. It was far more than he could’ve hoped for.

“Your friends helped, too. The ones with you on that outpost. I had trouble constructing the weapon by myself, so I asked for their guidance.”

That explained all the giggling behind his back, or why Zethrid and Acxa inexplicably left for a whole movement early last phoeb. He figured they were only teasing him about the necklace and how trite the whole ordeal was, but he should have known better. All four of them would never let him live it down now, especially once they find out Allura proposed to him before he did. But he’d get his chance later. He’d make sure of it.

“ _Thank you._ I-I feel like saying that isn’t enough, but…”

Allura suddenly fit herself against his body, all heady eyes and bewitching smiles before she captured his lips with her soft mouth. The searing heat between her thighs and under her tongue stoked the fires of lust once more with a roll of her hips. He wrapped an arm around her middle, bracing her slight frame to his as she clutched onto him like a lifeline.

“Love me, Lotor,” she commanded, breathless and reinvigorated by their shared passion. “That’s all I ask of you.”

By _fury_ , this woman could have him in any and every way she desired. Beyond mortality, beyond the gates of the afterlife, until all the stars fell from the sky; he’d love her. He made that vow the moment he confessed his burgeoning feelings for her as a teenager. Continued that promise even now as the man he grew into today. Fingers coiled around the elegant arch of her neck, claws tangling in those silvery curls as he drew her in for another inflamed kiss. His answer.

“Yes. _Yes, Allura._ ”

She didn’t need to ask. She never _had_ to.

In mind. In body. In spirit. _In perpetuity._

He was hers.

_And she is mine._

**Author's Note:**

> And this concludes my involvement for this ship/fandom. It's been real y'all. Hope you enjoyed the read! <3


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